Good Going, Harry
by Leona Rose
Summary: M-preg is always ridiculous, so naturally it happens to Draco Malfoy, thanks to Harry Potter. Draco milks it for all it's worth, and Harry refrains from stabbing the Slytherin. But Draco actually harbors a horrible, horrible secret. Obviously crackfic.


**Chapter One  
Being Harry Potter Kind of Sucks**

"You're _what_?" Harry's stomach dropped.

"I think it was that potion we made in Snape's class the day after. The one _you_ made, I mean." Draco spat.

"But what potion would _do_ that?"

"Calm down, you're causing a scene," sighed Draco, "not to mention undue stress. I know it's early, but I've heard it can be very traumatic for both mother and child. And let me remind you that _you_ were the one who just _had _to stick it in."

"But that's ridiculous!" Harry shouted. "How do you even—you're not even a mother! This is so _stupid_—there's no way!"

"I said calm _down_, Potter. I did a test."

"Where'd you get one of those stick things?"

"What?" Draco squinted. "There's a charm to tell. It was positive all three times."

He reached forward, grasping Harry's hand in the first sign of tenderness he'd shown in six years, and placed Harry's palm on his flat stomach. Harry could feel nothing but hard muscle.

"I'm with your child, Harry. Don't abandon us. I think you and I can make it through this just fine."

"Oh, please," Harry snatched away his hand. "I think I'm going to vomit."

"Funny, I was just thinking the same thing. The little bugger's quite feisty. See you, Potter!"

Draco made a big show of prancing off towards the bathrooms, leaving Harry to stare after him. The Gryffindor hadn't felt so lost in a long time.

-o-

Hermione sighed, pushing forward a book for Harry to see. She pointed out a certain paragraph, but Harry didn't bother reading it.

"I'm afraid there have been documented cases, Harry," she said apologetically, "so it's highly possible. When was the last time you two had intercourse?"

He stammered a bit before answering. Discussing such matters with Hermione was awkward, no matter how technical she made it sound.

"Just two weeks ago."

"The charm can detect fertilisation forty-eight hours after intercourse. How he has anything to fertilise is explained here. The potion must have caused the phenomenon."

She sighed once more, reaching for his hand.

"I hate to say it, but it looks like Draco might be telling the truth. The detection charm's ninety-seven-percent accurate, so if he performed it three times with positive results all three times, the chances are high."

Harry groaned. Hermione bit down on her lip.

"Out with it," said Harry.

"Well, there's always, erm, getting rid of the foetus, assuming it would work on a male as well. There's a potion, which of course I haven't made, but I'm sure it's not very difficult, and I would be willing to help." Her cheeks were a bright red.

"Hermione, that's a great idea!"

"Of course, you'll need his consent," she said sharply.

"Can't he just slip it in his breakfast juice?" asked Ron, looking slightly nauseated. "Or maybe after a few butterbeers at the Three Broomsticks he'd just drink it."

"That's actually not a bad plan."

"Don't even _think _about it, Harry!" exclaimed Hermione.

Sometimes Hermione's ethical views annoyed the piss out of Harry.

"But what about when it gets out that his baby's mine?"

"Maybe everyone'll perform a huge Memory Charm on themselves. S'what I'd do," mumbled Ron. "Blimey, Harry, how'd you end up in this?"

-o-

"Can't you just…get rid of it?" Harry suggested after Quidditch practice the following day.

Draco's eyes widened.

"Harry, you'd imply that I would harm my child, your _very own_ flesh and blood?"

Harry glared at him.

"Yes."

"Out of the question," Draco waved his hand. "How disgraceful."

Harry had to fight to keep his temper in check, but he had a feeling he was fighting a losing battle.

"Fine," snapped Harry as he stomped off the pitch. "Keep the stupid baby, and make an idiot of yourself."

"You forget it's your baby, too!" called Draco after him. "It'll be making a fool of you too!"

-o-

"Oh, I'm feeling so _nauseous_," moaned Draco, turning a few heads; Harry set his jaw. "I think if I chop those roots, the smell will make me lose my lunch, and we don't want the baby to go hungry now, would we?"

Harry growled and yanked the knife with Malfoy, wanting very much to slash the smirk off his stupid ugly face.

"That piece is too big," Draco pointed out.

"I hate you," spat Harry.

"What an unhealthy thing for our child to hear," Draco rubbed his stomach deliberately. "Honestly, Potter, you can tell you had no parents with the things that come out of your mouth."

"Yeah, 'cause Daddy Death Eater's so much better."

Draco lunged at Harry at once, apparently forgetting about his 'nausea'. Harry heard a sickening crack as his head hit the table behind them, and his fists were wildly swinging as he aimed in the general direction of Malfoy, the stupid prat, whom he couldn't see because his eyes were watering from his impact; he probably had a concussion. He heard the hard packing sound of skin on skin and felt the blows but his own adrenaline propelled him forward fearlessly.

And that's how Harry ended up in McGonagall's office with a black eye and a bloody nose, Draco beside him with a slash across his arm from a shattered glass vial and a bruise on his cheek. He moaned about the possibility of a miscarriage, which finally broke McGonagall of the stare she had fixed them with over her square-rimmed glasses.

"Malfoy, dare you insinuate that you are _pregnant_? You know the possibility is less than one-percent."

"I did the detection charm three times," bragged Draco. "It's all _his _fault!"

"_What_?" shouted Harry.

"Enough!" yelled McGonagall. "I don't care about your preferences or your relationships. I do care that you two are fighting in class like children. I will not tolerate this from either of you, _no matter the circumstances_," she added pointedly. "One hundred points from both your Houses, and a month's detention—Potter, you with me, and Malfoy, you will Madam Sprout. To your classes, both of you. And if I hear of any more fights, it'll be detention until your N.E.W.T.s. Good day."

When they were back out in the hallway, Harry shoved Malfoy against a wall.

"Ooh, nice and rough, it's been a while!" exclaimed Draco almost cheerily.

"I can't believe you told her," hissed Harry.

"I'll start showing, you know," Draco waved his hand as though it were no big deal. "It's not like they won't all figure it out."

"You could just make up some excuse of a curse or something, I don't know," Harry tried.

"Not when they see I'm _glowing_, Potter, like pregnant women are wont to do. You should really be more considerate and educate yourself on my position. I've got Charms to run to, so toodle-loo!"

Harry kicked the wall. Hermione's admonition or not, he was strongly considering a trip to the Three Broomsticks with dear Draco in the near future.

-o-

**A/N: **I hope you enjoyed this first little ditty. I've always thought m-preg was a bit odd, and somehow I find that Draco and Harry bonding lovingly over such a phenomenon would be highly improbable, although I'm a sucker for a good romance. Still, I love making Draco whine and be melodramatic, and Harry be angry, because it's what they do best.

As always, reviews and constructive criticism are most welcome! They keep me writing you all chapters. Hopefully I'll have chapter two written before next year. ;)


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